The Elder Scrolls: Bloodkin
by NuclearDeadline
Summary: Set in the expansive and ever-intriguing world of the Elder Scrolls Series one year before the time of the events of "Skyrim", The Elder Scrolls: Bloodkin follows the story of Clarette Morrard, a 300 year-old Breton vampire and her Nord Stormcloak companion as they travel across Skyrim to the city of Windhelm at the behest of Jarl Ulfric. But, sinister forces stalk Clarette.
1. Chapter I

(Credit to Artfall of DeviantArt for cover image)

4E 200, 14th of Last Seed - Imperial City, Cyrodiil

She felt the noose tighten around her neck as the executioner tied it properly. The cool Cyrodiil breeze lightly caressed her face. The crowd looked on with silent intent as the preparations for the hanging were finalized. The Breton girl looked beyond the executioner's hood and into his eyes; oddly, he had trouble looking away from her. When he was finally able to break the mesmerizing gaze of the woman he was to kill, he went over to the lever which would release the trap door and end her life. The Imperial Officer residing over the execution walked towards her.

"Any last words, you thieving, murdering scum?" He said with a snarl on his face.

She looked up towards the sun, which beat down upon her skin like the brightest and hottest light imaginable.

"Would you mind turning out the lights?" She asked. "I was never very good with the sun."

The Imperial Officer rolled his eyes and sighed. Then, he looked into her eyes and realized what she was.

"You're a damned monster," he said, "and this hanging is kind of us, considering what you are."

"A young Breton girl with beautiful good looks?" She said with a sly smile.

The Officer slapped her across the face. She would have fought back, were her hands not bound in irons.

"Executioner," the Officer called, "Ready yourself."

The executioner gave the Officer a nod of his head as he gripped the lever. The Officer dutifully stood on the platform above the silent crowd. He cleared his throat.

"This woman," he began, but paused as he pulled out a piece of parchment. "Clarette Morrard, accused of theft, trespassing, assault, attempted murder and murder shall answer for her crimes. The punishment, as says Imperial law, is death to be carried out by hanging."

There was but one noise coming from the crowd; a woman's sobbing. Suddenly, the Nord woman making the noise pushed her way to the front of the crowd.

"That is no woman!" She said, "That… thing is a vampire, and it killed my son!"

The crowd collectively gasped at the words.

"Cut the head off!" One man yelled.

"Burn it!" Yelled another.

"Leave it in the sun before it turns us!"

Clarette did nothing but smirk. She didn't feel the need to justify herself. These people knew nothing of her kind. The crowd could think what they want about her, even hate her just for being what she is; she didn't care. If her unnatural life were to end today, so be it.

"Executioner," The Officer said, "Do it."

The executioner pulled the lever and the door opened. The noose became ever so tight around Clarette's neck, cutting off her air supply and nearly snapping her neck. Suddenly, the rope broke. Clarette hit the ground hard in front of the crowd. She got up and rubbed her neck as the stunned crowd stared directly at her, frozen in fear of the being in front of them. Clarette took advantage of the stroke of luck and ran as fast as she could away from the platform.

"Archers!" The Officer called, "kill it!"

Arrows whipped past Clarette's head as she ran to the city gates, her one chance to escape the Imperial City and be free. She slammed into the large wooden door, opening it, and bolted out the other side. Freedom was but a large, stone bridge away. She had expected more from the famed Imperial Legion; tying a faulty rope _and_ allowing her to escape so easily. The sun was starting to take its toll. She felt physically tired; her skin felt like it was burning slightly, despite there being no evident signs of burns; her blood felt like it was boiling beneath her skin. The former two she could get used to, but the latter was the most intense.

Despite the pain, she ran onto the bridge in the hope that any legionnaires wouldn't take notice of the running woman. The two men blocking the midsection of the bridge dispelled that hope. They raised their shields as Clarette kept running. She charged into one of the men, knocking him down. She took the sword from his hands and got up. She slashed at the legionnaire, who blocked the blow. The legionnaire lowered his shield to attack, and Clarette took full advantage. She quickly thrust the Imperial blade straight through the studded iron and leather and pierced his chest. The legionnaire fell to the ground, dead.

Clarette turned to the other man, who had gotten up. He still held his shield. She again charged into him, once more knocking him to the ground. She smacked his shield away and grabbed his head. She forced his neck to become exposed and sank her vampiric fangs into his bloodstream. She pulled herself back when she realized what little time she had. The legionnaire was still alive, dying on the ground. She took her sword and stabbed him in the heart.

"Sorry," she said to the corpse as she pulled the sword out. "Forgot how little time I have."

Clarette took the sword's sheathe from the soldier's side and tied the rope around her waist. She put the sword in its sheathe and kept running. She ran off of the bridge, past the lonely inn and house, and ran straight west into the Cyrodiil wilderness.

* * *

Clarette ran until it became night. She estimated that she was somewhere in the Colovian Highlands by now. She sat down under a tall tree for a moment's rest. Now that the sun had set, she could feel her strength returning and her fatigue setting aside. Having recently fed, even for just a moment, was enough to satiate the thirst a little longer.

She considered going to Hammerfell, but dismissed the idea. She then pondered turning south-east and heading to Elsweyr. Again, she dismissed the idea. It wasn't a safe place for someone of her kind – but then, where was truly safe? Perhaps her homeland, High Rock? She liked the idea of returning to Daggerfall, but didn't feel that the time was right. Then it came to her; Skyrim. Although it was still an Imperial province and the Empire would no doubt be looking for a loose vampire, she had never been there before. She felt that it was worth the risk, and she could handle herself either way.

Clarette's thoughts were interrupted by a hardly noticeable sound; the sound of light footsteps ruffling the grass. She quietly rose up and put her back against the tree as the sound grew closer. She drew her newly-acquired sword from its sheathe as she jumped out and landed on what was making the sound. She tackled to the ground a Nord man. When she realized he was not a legionnaire, she got off of him.

"Why are you out here?" She asked as she put her sword away.

The Nord got up and brushed the dirt from his shirt.

"Looking for you," he said as he brushed more dirt from his leg.

Clarette once more drew her sword.

"Not to hurt you," he added.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Clarette said, putting the sword nearly at his throat. "You're out in the middle of the Colovian Highlands looking for someone who you no doubt know is dangerous, and you expect me to believe that you mean me no harm?"

The Nord shrugged. "Yes."

Clarette looked the man over. He looked like a typical Nord; strong face, dark beard, shoulder-length brown hair.

"Now," Clarette said, lowering her sword, "why might you be looking for me?"

The Nord handed a parchment to Clarette. It read:

_You are a unique individual. Those of your kind are oft hunted down as animals. Like dogs, you are tracked across the continent and hunted, and this will be so until your extinction. I offer you an opportunity as unqiue as yourself; I offer sanctuary from the corrupt, failing Empire in exchange for your services as a mercenary, of sorts. My army will need individuals who possess talents like you in the days to come. War is upon us, Ms. Morrard, and joining forces with the winning side is always wise._

_Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm_

Clarette handed the note back to the Nord.

"You want me to take part in a fight that is not my own, for some Jarl I've never met?" she said.

"Yes," the Nord replied.

Clarette titled her head slightly.

"What's the payment? Aside from the aforementioned sanctuary," she asked.

"I was told that Jarl Ulfric would tell you himself," the Nord replied. His face was serious, like he had never smiled before.

"And who might you be?" Clarette asked.

"Sinvir, a Stormcloak," the Nord replied as he raised his hand to his shoulder.

Clarette smirked. "He named his army after himself? How narcissistic."

"So you'll come?" Sinvir impatiently asked.

"I'll meet with this Ulfric and decide then," Clarette replied, sheathing her sword. "I was planning on heading up that way, anyway. I assume you have a way to leave the province undetected?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful," Clarette said as she patted Sinvir's shoulder. "Shall we be off?"


	2. Chapter II

4E 200, 15th of Last Seed - Colovian Highlands, Cyrodiil

The way to Skyrim that Sinvir promised was far from a comfortable horseback ride; they tread through most of the Colovian Highlands without issue, but were stalled by the odd bear attack or bandit camp, the latter of which Clarette opted to avoid where Sinvir preferred to attack. The two eventually annexed a bandit camp when the sun began to rise, and to Clarette's delight Sinvir agreed to stay there until the sun set again.

Clarette moved the bodies of the former inhabitants into a nearby river and returned to the camp. Sinvir was sitting on a stump, writing on a piece of parchment. Clarette set her sword down inside one of the tents and sat on the ground beside Sinvir. She looked at the rising sun.

"Writing anything interesting?" Clarette asked, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. Sinvir didn't reply, and instead kept writing. "Not ignoring me, are you?" Sinvir looked up from his parchment.

"No," he replied, setting his quill down on the parchment. "But, this does not concern you." Clarette started to grow curious as to what he was writing.

"A letter?" she asked with almost childlike curiosity. "Poem? Epic novel about a wonderful Breton girl who gets turned into a vampire?"

"It does not concern you," Sinvir sternly replied. Clarette got up and walked in front of him. She stared directly into his eyes. He stared back.

"How about now?" she said with a smile. "Care to tell?"

Sinvir's face was serious and stern. "No," he replied.

Clarette was amazed and confused. Her attempts to control his mind failed as they never have before. A vampire's seduction is almost definite.

"Fine," she said, backing away from him. "I just thought that perhaps, since we're travelling together, we should get to know each other."

"I cut the rope," Sinvir said, picking up his quill once more. "I let loose an arrow and it cut the rope. That is all you need to know about me."

Sinvir finished his writing and stored his quill in his pack beside the stump. Clarette got up and went into the tent where she stored her sword. She took off her clothes and got into the makeshift bedding. It was more comfortable than it looked, considering it was animal furs and leather bound and stitched together. Just past her feet sunlight intruded into the tent. She curled up so as to not be accidentally caught in the dreaded light. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Clarette awoke as the sun began to set. She got out of the bedding and put her clothes back on, once more tying the sheathe of her sword around her waist. She began to feel the thirst again, although it was not overpowering – not yet. She exited the tent and went over to Sinvir, who appeared to have not moved at all. He stared blankly into the North.

"Ready to go?" Clarette asked. Sinvir turned around. He almost looked startled, as though he hadn't been expecting her.

"Yes," he replied as he got up.

"Sinvir?" Clarette said when she caught up to him. "We need to make a stop."

"What for?" He asked, clearly annoyed by her pestering.

"Well, you see, I'm getting hungry, if you know what I mean." Clarette smirked. "I'd rather not feed on my Nordic guide."

Sinvir blankly looked at her.

"Well?" Clarette said, smiling all the while.

"Fine," Sinvir replied. "Once we get to the border, there will likely be Imperials. You may feed on them."

"Wonderful," Clarette said, clearly pleased with Sinvir's allowance. "One such as I can get a little nasty when we're starved." Sinvir stared at her with seriousness in his eyes. Clarette smiled back. "Not that I'd ever imagine feeding from you, like I said."

The two walked north for hours, bypassing Chorrol and heading straight for the border to Skyrim. They got on the road when they passed Chorrol which took them right where they needed to go. They walked until they reached an Imperial checkpoint. A gate and gatehouse blocked passage into the province. Tired legionnaires descended the gatehouse.

"I thought you said we could get in undetected," Clarette said. Sinvir walked up to the two tired legionnaires and spoke with them. Clarette could hear most of the conversation.

"Where might you be headed?" a legionnaire asked. He eyed Sinvir with suspicion, and took care to keep one eye trained on his axe arm.

"Skyrim," Sinvir replied, serious and stern as usual. "I'm taking my wife to visit family in Windhelm." The legionnaire looked past Sinvir and at Clarette. She smiled and waved.

"Quite a wife," the legionnaire said with an intriguing smile, his face betraying his lust. The other legionnaire stared at Clarette. She began to worry. The legionnaire staring at her pulled his comrade aside for a moment and whispered something to him. The legionnaires returned to Sinvir.

The legionnaire's face turned serious once more. "I'll need to take your wife aside for a moment," he said. "It would appear that we have some sort of misunderstanding that we need to clear up." Sinvir shifted his stance.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," he said. "Any further delay and my wife will be upset." Clarette shot Sinvir a stern look. The legionnaire put his hand on his sword.

"Ser, I won't ask again." Clarette walked up to the three and put her hand on Sinvir's arm.

"It's quite all right, dear," she said. "I'm sure it is – as they said – a misunderstanding." A legionnaire stayed with Sinvir while the other went with Clarette into the guardhouse. The two sat down at a table inside the small room.

"Clarette Morrard," the legionnaire said to her. "I had a feeling I'd run into you here." Clarette wasn't surprised that she was known to the legion.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Mister..."

The legionnaire pulled out a silver dagger and stabbed it into the table in front of the vampire. Clarette became slightly nervous.

"Silvius Remanius," the ruggedly handsome legionnaire said, "professional vampire hunter." Clarette stared at the dagger with anxiety in her eyes.

"And your companion?" she said.

"Also a hunter," Silvius said as he stared into Clarette's eyes. "After you killed that noble boy in the Imperial City, I figured you'd probably head north, considering Skyrim is on the brink of war. You vampires feed – quite literally – on chaos."

"Quite the deduction," Clarette said. "I assume you plan to stab me with the silver dagger you have so blatantly shown me?"

"I have many plans in mind," Silvius said with a smirk. "All of them involve vampire ashes in my possession."

"You know how old I am, yes?"

"Three hundred years, on the dot."

"You know how many would-be vampire hunters have tried to collect my ashes?"

"I do."

Clarette felt uncomfortable in the presence of this man, not because he was hunter. She couldn't explain it. She continued to eye the silver dagger. It was of ornate construction; daedric lettering was etched on the ivory hilt.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" Clarette said. "I do realize what a wonderful sight I am, but I am on a tight schedule." Silvius got up from his chair, followed by Clarette.

"Release your thrall," Silvius demanded. Clarette looked puzzled.

"Thrall?" she asked. "What thrall?"

"The man you came here with. Release him."

"He is not a thrall. His mind is his own."

"No one is stupid enough to travel with a vampire," Silvius said. He quickly pulled the silver dagger from its resting place. Clarette drew her sword. Silvius drew his as well.

"It would seem we are at a stalemate," Clarette said.

"So it seems," Silvius replied. "Can you feel your thirst building?"

A surprised look crossed Clarette's face. "What are you-"

"Can you feel it in your blood yet? The desire for more. How long has it been since you fed? Two days?"

Clarette felt temptation build up inside of her. She was tempted to jump across the table and bite into Silvius' veins, despite reason telling her it was a death sentence. Silvius wanted her to do just that. He slowly inched towards her. She backed up to the door. Suddenly, Silvius lunged at her, but Clarette fell through the door and landed on the dirt road outside. Sinvir pushed the hunter blocking his way to the ground and ran past him.

"Come on!" he said as he helped Clarette up, "we need to run!" Sinvir pushed open the gate and the two ran down the road as the hunters recuperated. They stayed on the road a while longer, as getting off of the road would likely lead to getting lost in the passages and crevices of the Jerall Mountains.

* * *

Silvius helped his comrade up from the dirt that the Nord had so brutishly pushed him to.

"So close," Silvius said, "so close to killing that monster."

"Don't worry, Silvius," his comrade said. "They won't last long in Skyrim. With the Imperial Legion following them and us hunting them, they're sure to die."

"Indeed," Silvius said, "but should they take refuge with the Stormcloaks, we may have to resort to acquiring assistance."

"Better them than the Volkihar," Silvius added.

The other hunter laughed.

"They wouldn't take in a vampire not of their clan," he said.

"Very true," Silvius replied, "but have we not seen that with the Whet-Fang?"

"That was different," his comrade replied. "He was an Argonian."

"One who was terrible with a blade," Silvius laughed. The two hunters looked down the road where their prey had run.

"It's been quite some time since we had a chase," Silvius said. "Longer still since our prey has been as controlled by her thirst as this Clarette Morrard."

"What do you mean?" the other hunter asked.

"All I had to do was mention her thirst and she froze in place. Remember this should we corner her again."

The two hunters started to casually walk down the road. Silvius was confident that they would catch up to the prey in little time; he felt no need to hurry. Something about this particular vampire fascinated him; he had spoken with his prey before, but never had his prey been as cocky yet transparent as this one. She pretended to have every move planned, yet Silvius was able to see through that guise and think a step ahead. He found her weakness, and planned to exploit it ruthlessly. This vampire could not escape.

* * *

The sun was well on the rise as Clarette and Sinvir reached the southern town of Falkreath. Clarette was feeling starved as they entered the town. Sinvir guided her through the gate as a town guard walked up to them.

"What's the problem with your companion?" he asked, attempting to catch a view of Clarette's face.

"She's ill," Sinvir said. The guard took notice of Clarette's pale skin.

"Is it contagious?" the guard asked, the safety of the town in mind, tempered with concern for his own well-being.

"No," Sinvir replied.

"We have a healer," the guard said.

"She does not require one. She will become better with time."

"We have a tavern, just down the road," the guard said pointing in the direction.

Sinvir slowly helped Clarette down the road and up the wooden steps to the tavern. He opened the door and brought Clarette inside. The walls and floor were made entirely of wood; in the center lay an open firepit for cooking and warmth; near the back lay a bar. It was only morning, but most of the tables were occupied by local Nords. Sinvir guided Clarette towards the innkeeper behind the bar. He rented a room and set Clarette down on the bed. She began to feel somewhat better out of the sun. Her skin ceased to burn and her blood returned to normal, but the thirst was still present.

"I'm beginning to feel starved," Clarette said with a forced smile. She sat up on the bed.

"The sun will start to effect me even more now."

"We need to rectify that," Sinvir said.

"How cold," Clarette said. "Do you not care for your fellow kinsmen?"

"Falkreath is an Imperial town," Sinvir said. "The guardsmen are therefore Imperials."

"I am to feed on guardsmen?" Clarette said. "That's risky. Perhaps a citizen-"

"No."

"Why not?"

Sinvir silently stared at Clarette.

"Fine," she said, "tonight I'll feed on a guardsman. If I get killed, you can explain to Ulfric why."

Clarette untied her sheathe and set it down beside the bed.

"Are you sure it's wise to stay here?" she asked Sinvir. "Those hunters are sure to be following us, not to mention the Imperial Legion."

"You worry too much," Sinvir replied.

"When you've lived as long as I have," Clarette began, "you pick up a few survival tips. Rule number one is to be cautious. This usually involves hiding in a less obvious place when you're being followed. As much as I appreciate the lack of exposure to that bloody ball in the sky, this isn't exactly what I would call 'less obvious.'"

Sinvir sat down on a chair in the corner of the room beside the bed and rested his axe on the night stand. Clarette hadn't even noticed that Sinvir carried a weapon. The axe was Nordic steel with a leather-bound handle. It looked to have Nordic writing carved into the blade.

"That's an intriguing axe," Clarette said. "I've seen plenty in my time, but none short of an axe that almost took my life in Elsweyr were as finely made as this."

"It was my father's," Sinvir said. He stared blankly at the axe.

"Is your father-"

"He's dead."

"Do you mind if I ask how he-"

"I do."

Clarette closed her eyes and lay back down on the bed. Her thoughts were of her home in Daggerfall, which she hadn't seen in many years. She left Daggerfall similarly to how she left the Imperial City; in a hail of arrows, accusations and bad blood.

Sinvir took his eyes off of the axe and shifted them to Clarette. He wondered why Ulfric would send him after an undead being; surely vampries had power, but Sinvir was confident that the Stormcloaks did not need to resort to such a low as using undead. Clarette was, indeed, beautiful. Yet, knowing what she was, Sinvir was revolted. This _thing_ was Ulfirc's plan? This bloodsucking, murdering, ageless animal? Sinvir understood why vampire hunters did what they did. Yet, despite his want to leave the vampire behind or cut its throat as it laid there, his loyalty to a free Skyrim outweighed his distaste for creatures of the night.

Sinvir couldn't help but admire Clarette's outward beauty; she would be a prize for Ulfric, despite what she was. Her pale skin barely marred her appearance. What marred it most were the signs of vampirism associated with a lack of blood, but well-fed she would seem human. Ulfric would be unlikely to allow her to feed on himself. Sinvir thought that he would allow her to feed on Imperial prisoners or criminals instead. He slowly closed his own eyes and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Clarette was the first to wake. She sat up to see Sinvir asleep on the chair beside her bed. This was the first time she had seen her Nord companion even close his eyes for a moment. She got out of the bed and put her hand on his shoulder to wake him. The second she touched him, he burst awake and grabbed his axe. Clarette stumbled back in surprise.

"What was that for?" she said.

Sinvir put his axe down, realizing that Clarette meant no harm.

"I was just trying to wake you."

"Apologies," Sinvir said.

Clarette relaxed as well.

"All right," she said, "it's fine. I'm going to go feed now before my outward appearance becomes more obviously vampiric."

Sinvir stared at her.

"Perhaps you, my strong Nord companion, should accompany me to ensure that your lord's investment is not harmed?"

Sinvir got up and grabbed his axe.

"Wonderful," Clarette said.

It was dusk outside. The sky was nearly black, marred in parts by spots of green. The cool air nipped at Clarette's face as she exited the now-filled tavern with Sinvir. Sinvir led Clarette to Falkreath's guardhouse.

"Here it is," he said. "Be quick."

Clarette winked at Sinvir and went inside. It was relatively quiet. Two guards sat at a table playing cards, while others slept soundly. The two guards barely noticed her arrival, but they were sure to notice her feed on any of the others as she had originally planned. No plan survives contact with the enemy, Clarette thought to herself. She quickly devised a new plan. She walked up to the two guards. They looked up from their game and looked her over.

"How can I help you?" one of them said, not noticing the signs of vampirism immediately. Clarette stared into his eyes. His gaze widened. He knew what she was, but he found himself unable to say the words. He quickly discovered that his thoughts were not his own.

Clarette bent down and kissed the guard, in order to keep up an appearance. The other guard was amused at the sight of a strange Breton kissing his friend. Clarette grabbed the guard's hand and led him outside.

"Hey!" the other guard called. Clarette and the guard she was leading turned around.

"Have fun, you lucky bastard," the other guard said with a wink. Clarette smiled back.

She led the guard outside and around the back of the guardhouse. She had him enthralled. He was absolutely helpless. The guard looked at Clarette's vampiric features with a horror he was unable to project to his face or exclaim out loud. Clarette grabbed his head and slightly tilted it, exposing his neck. She bit in without remorse and bled the man dry. She dropped him when she was finished and wiped the bloody remnants from her mouth. She returned to Sinvir, who had seen her lead the guard around the back.

"Done?" he asked.

"Done," Clarette replied.

Sinvir was able to acquire a carriage ride to Windhelm in Clarette's brief absence, and this ensured that they would be able to get there with no trouble from the pursuing hunters; Sinvir had assumed that they wouldn't harm someone who wasn't a vampire, minus himself.


	3. Chapter III

3E 356 - Daggerfall, High Rock

Clarette woke up and got out of the lavishly posh bed of her master bedroom. She put on her favourite black and gold gown, complete with black Elven-made shoes – nothing but the best for the nobility of Daggerfall. She looked at herself in the mirror, and when she was satisfied she exited the room. Her servant was already waiting for her outside her room.

"Good morning, milady," the Nord said.

"Tor," Clarette said with a smile. "Would you be so kind as to fetch me something to eat?"

"Right away," he said, "and Master Morrard wishes to speak with you."

Clarette sighed.

"What about?" she said as she rolled her eyes.

"The Master would not say," Tor replied.

Clarette waved Tor away as she walked down the well-decorated hallway. Paintings from many renowned Breton artists hung from the walls, illuminated by the natural light coming from the windows that provided a view of the busy street below. She opened the door into the main foyer. The foyer was just as lavishly decorated as the rest of the manor; a large set of stairs descended to the door, which was guarded by the city guard diligently. The manor had its own guards, but Clarette's father decided it was pointless to turn down a service which had been generously offered by the King of Daggerfall.

Clarette walked down the stairs and took a right, leading her to her father's study. She went inside and found her father sitting at his desk, reading a book – as was his favourite pastime. As a Thane of the King, he rarely had days off – but when he did he could be found here, amongst his rather impressive library of knowledge and fiction alike. When speaking about it to her friends, Clarette compared it Hermaeus Mora's realm of Oblivion known as Apocrypha.

"You wished to see me, father?" she asked.

Her father put his book down on his desk and looked at her.

"Clarette," he said. "Indeed, I did wish to speak with you."

"Might I ask what about?" she said.

"A number of things," her father replied. "For one, why you must insist upon disobeying me."

Clarette smirked.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about," Clarette said.

"You continue to fraternize with the Geraldines," her father said, "despite my asking you not to. They are not your friends, Clarette. Their patron is a criminal and likely a Daedra worshipper and you are a Morrard of the Court of Daggerfall."

"Their 'patron,'" Clarette said, "is a rather wealthy landowner, father. Would it not be of assistance to have their money at our disposal?"

"No," her father said, "and I do not need you becoming friends with that boy."

Clarette's face became serious.

"I have one other thing we must discuss," her father said.

Her father got up from his desk and started to walk around the room, examining the covers of the many books on his shelves. He stopped at one; an old, thick, leather-bound tome. He pulled it out and opened it. The book had no pages, and instead sat an indent. He took something from the indent in his hands and closed the book, returning it to its place on the shelf. He walked over to Clarette and opened his hand. In it lay an ornate golden necklace with an odd gem in the center.

"Take it," her father said. Clarette was confused. What was this for? Was she being rewarded for something?

"Well?" her father said. "Are you going to take it?"

Clarette picked up the necklace.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A family heirloom. It has been with us for many generations, and considering you are the oldest of the Morrard children, it is your turn to carry it."

Clarette was fascinated by the gem; it was a deep purple, unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was a truly beautiful piece of jewelry.

"What kind of gem is this?" Clarette said as she pointed to it.

"A special kind," her father said. Clarette wasn't satisfied with the answer.

"Yes, yes," she said, "but what kind? It is purple, yet not an amethyst."

"In time," her father said, "you will discover that on your own. But you must keep this safe for the remainder of your life. This gem is something that you must treasure and forever hold close to your heart."

Clarette rolled her eyes at her father's cryptic explanation and put the necklace around her neck.

"Thank you, father," she said.

Master Morrard sat back down at his desk.

"You may leave," he said.

Clarette turned around and left his study, gently closing the door so as not to disturb his reading. Tor was waiting.

"Milady," he said, handing her a plate of gourmet food. Clarette looked it over.

"Wonderful," she said. "Take it to the dining room and set it down there. Where is my mother?"

"Lady Morrard is in the courtyard."

"Of course she is," Clarette said. "And my brother?"

"Your brother is with his 'companion,' Esmeralda."

"Esmeralda Muirine?" Clarette asked with surprise.

"Yes," Tor repled.

The Muirines were a working-class family of smiths and jewelry makers, and it would seem Clarette's brother, Endon, was infatuated with the youngest of the family. Clarette did her morning rounds around the manor before she finally went to the dining room to eat her meal. When she finished, she left the dishes and silverware for the servants and left the manor. A guard stopped her just before she could leave the manor.

"Would you like me to accompany you, ma'am?" he asked. Daggerfall's law enforcement was good to the upper-class. Clarette looked the guard over. He was a young Breton man, around Clarette's age of twenty three; fit and armed with the standard steel sword of the Daggerfall guardsmen.

"I would," she said. "Come."

* * *

Clarette left the manor grounds and walked down the busy street to the residence of the Muirines. The house was a modest place, built from stone and just large enough for the four members. She had never been inside, nor did she know any of the family besides Esmeralda, who Clarette did not exactly like. She knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later, an older man opened the door. His eyes widened, surprised to see nobility on his doorstep.

"Milady," he said. "How can I help you?"

"Is your daughter here?" Clarette asked.

"No," the older man said, "is she in some sort of trouble?"

Clarette wished she was.

"Not at all," Clarette said, "I am just looking for her."

"She went down to the forge earlier this morning."

"Thank you," Clarette said as she turned to walk away.

"Give Master Morrard my regards," the older man said.

Clarette had no such intention. She and her guard companion walked further down the street to the market district, where the Muirine's shop and outside forge was. Surely enough, Esmeralda was working the forge with Endon. Clarette wasn't pleased to see her brother in Esmeralda's company, and even less pleased to see him doing the work of the lower-class. She tried to calm herself and walked over to the forge. Neither Esmeralda nor Endon noticed Clarette and her guard.

"Endon," Clarette said with her signature smile.

Endon froze. He knew that voice anywhere; the voice of his pompous older sister.

"Clarette," he said as he set the blade he was working on down in water to cool.

"How wonderful to see you."

Esmeralda stopped sharpening her blade and got up.

"Clarette," she said with an obviously forced smile that hid hate.

"Esmeralda Muirine," Clarette replied. "Still working your father's forge, I see."

"Still using your father's money, I see," replied Esmeralda.

Clarette's smile faded and she stared at Esmeralda, who returned her gaze.

Endon stepped in between the two.

"What do you want, Clarette?" he said.

Clarette turned her gaze to Endon.

"I'm here to take you away from the lower-class," she said, "return you to your proper place."

"What if I don't want that?" Endon replied. He backed up beside Esmeralda.

"Why wouldn't you?" Clarette replied. "Why would one rather squabble in the dirt with peasants when one is of a higher standard?"

Endon's face became enraged.

"You're damned pompous," he said. "I don't see why father takes a liking to you."

Esmeralda put a hand on Endon's arm. He relaxed slightly.

Clarette was partially unsurprised by her brother's response.

"Very well," she said. She looked at Esmeralda. "Goodbye, dear Esmeralda," she said sarcastically. She turned to her guard and walked to the center of the market. Endon and Esmeralda returned to working the forge.

Clarette turned to her guard.

"Can you believe it?" she said. The guard didn't know how to respond.

Clarette continued.

"I can't believe he'd rather spend time with that peasant than with those of equal standing."

She looked at her guard.

"No offense."

The guard was regretting accompanying Clarette.

* * *

The two walked right back to the manor, to the guardsman's delight. He took his leave of Clarette as she went inside the manor. She made her way to the back courtyard. It was a thing of beauty, filled with plants of all sizes and colours from all over Tamriel – and even one or two from Akavir – that her mother and her servants tended. It was a common myth amongst the working-class that the garden contained a Hist tree, but this was nothing but an urban myth, and more than a few commoners had been arrested whilst trying to sneak into the garden to find out. Clarette's mother had always been kind to her servants, something she wished Clarette would take after her. Clarette's mother, the Lady Morrard, was tending to her plants when Clarette walked outside.

"Mother," she said.

Her mother stopped tending the plants and got up.

"Clarette," she said, "hello."

"Are you aware of Endon's doings?" Clarette asked.

Lady Morrard sighed.

"Yes," she said, "and before you ask I do not care for what he does behind closed doors. He can see whomever he wishes."

"But mother!" Clarette protested, "She is a peasant!"

"It is none of your business, Clarette," her mother said. "You will leave him alone, and you will stop being hostile to Esmeralda. If I understand, Endon isn't the only one doing things behind closed doors."

"The Geraldines are very wealthy," Clarette said.

"Wealth is not everything," Lady Morrard said.

Clarette walked away from her mother and went back inside. Endon took after her mother, whereas Clarette didn't really take after either parent. She felt that her father wasn't aggressive enough in the King's Court and she disagreed with her mother on many things. She felt the necklace as she thought of her brother spending time with the smith's daughter. She felt that the peasant woman wasn't worthy of her brother. She released the necklace and left the manor once more, this time to the residence of the Geraldines to see her newly acquired friend, Banning. Banning was a year older than Clarette, and the middle child of three.

* * *

Clarette arrived at the Geraldine residence not long after she left. It was about the size of Clarette's family's manor and was just down the street. She knocked on the door and it was Louis, the eldest brother and two years older than Clarette who answered. He smiled when he saw Clarette.

"Why hello, Miss Morrard," he said.

Clarette slyly smiled back.

"Good day, Mister Geraldine," Clarette said. The two stared at each other a moment when Banning emerged from behind Louis.

"Hello, Clarette," he said.

"Banning," Clarette said, "I was just looking for you."

Banning moved Louis out of the way.

"Care to have a walk?" Banning asked.

"Absolutely," Clarette replied. Banning stepped past Louis and down the steps, out the door. Louis gave Clarette a wink and she waved back. She and Banning started to walk down the street.

"You're aware that my brother's taken a liking to you, then?" he asked.

"Getting jealous?" Clarette said.

"Of that pale womanizer?" Banning said. "Never."

"He's quite the charmer," Clarette said.

"Sure he is," Banning laughed, "and I'm secretly Sheogorath."

Clarette smirked.

"You look more like a Molag Bal," she said with a smile.

"The Lord of Domination?" Banning said. "Are you trying to say something?"

Clarette just smiled.

* * *

The two walked around Daggerfall until late afternoon, periodically stopping to eat or to relax. Banning walked Clarette back to her manor's doorstep.

"Clarette?" Banning said.

"Yes?" Clarette replied.

"What do you say we meet outside the city gate tonight?"

"Might I ask what for?"

Banning didn't reply, and instead gave an intriguing smile. Clarette understood perfectly.

"All right," she said. "I'll be there."

"Wonderful," Banning replied.

With that Banning took his leave of Clarette. Clarette opened the door of the manor to see Endon standing there. He had heard the conversation.

"You're a hypocrite," he said.

Clarette shoved past him.

"I stay within my class, Endon. You settle for those lower than you."

Clarette made her way to her room and sat down on her bed. She took the pendant from her neck and examined it. The chain was a black material that Clarette didn't recognize; the pendant itself was golden and held the unknown gem. She tapped the gem as if hoping her finger could recognize it. She put the necklace back on when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said.

Tor opened the door.

"Milady," he said, "I have your new shoes from the tailor in Wayrest."

"Set them down over there," Clarette said as she pointed to a spot by the door.

Tor set the shoes down and waited for Clarette to give him an order.

"You may leave," she said.

Tor bowed his head slightly and left. Clarette liked Tor. He had been with the Morrards since Clarette was born, and had always served her loyally. Best of all, he knew his place.

* * *

When night fell, Clarette left the manor and headed through the now nearly empty Daggerfall streets to the city gate. The gate guard opened it and allowed her to leave. She exited the city and looked around for Banning. She found him standing by the stables. He waved her over. She walked over, but when she got close Banning walked around the back. She decided to follow him. When she got around the back, she was surprised to see Louis there as well.

"Banning," Clarette said, "what is Louis doing-"

Louis stared right into Clarette's eyes. She found herself unable to speak, completely mesmerized by his eyes. Banning and Louis looked at each other, each one with an evil smile. Louis walked right up to Clarette. She wanted to push him away, but she couldn't move. Fear started to rise in her. Louis put his hand on Clarette's face.

"Clarette," he said. "How wonderful to finally meet you at night. In a secluded place, no less."

He moved her head aside, exposing her neck.

"This may hurt," he said.

Clarette's heart was racing. Louis bit down into her neck. A surge of pain soared up through her body and her knees became weak. Louis held her up until he was finished. He let her fall to the ground. Banning knelt down to get a look at her face.

"Is she dead?" he asked Louis.

"Not yet," Louis replied. "Give her three days. Get her back to her manor and safely in bed. Ensure you are unseen and clean the wound. Leave no trail of blood."

* * *

Clarette awoke at midday. She remembered everything that had happened the previous night. She hoped it was a bad dream. She felt her neck. The marks were there. That was no dream. She had been seduced and bitten by a vampire. She sprang out of the bed and went for the door. She stopped just short of it. She had planned to tell her family, but what would they say? They might kill her on spot, as there was no cure for vampirism. Perhaps one of her father's books spoke of a cure, she thought. She opened the door and tried to stay calm. Tor was, as usual, waiting.

"Sleeping late, milady?" he said.

Clarette ignored him and quickly walked down the hallway. The sunlight from the windows was blinding. She went down the stairs and into her father's study. He had already left for the Court by this time. She examined the covers of the books carefully, hoping for anything that may allude to vampirism. She stopped at a book titled, "Immortal Blood." She took it out and opened it. It didn't speak of a cure, and instead detailed types of vampires and a vampire of the Cyrodiilic line tricking a poor Dunmer. She put the book back and again looked for anything alluding to vampirism. Nothing. She sat down at her father's desk, convinced that she was now doomed to live as a monster. Tor opened the door to the study.

"Leave me, Tor," Clarette sharply said.

"Milady, I-"

"Now!"

Tor quickly backed out of the room and closed the door. Clarette got up and went back to her room. She locked the door and closed all the drapes on the windows to block the sun. She had effectively barricaded herself in her room. She lay down on her bed and awaited the pending transformation.

* * *

It wasn't long before Clarette felt the effects of the change. The first thing she noticed was an overwhelming thirst. Not for water, but for something she couldn't put her finger on. She noticed an increase in her hearing, as she began to hear the heartbeat of anything that walked by her door. Light gave her terrible headaches, so she lay in utter darkness. At times when she would normally feel hungry, she felt only the insatiable thirst. Her teeth hurt for hours on end, relenting for mere minutes before starting up again. A few hours after Clarette barricaded herself, there was a knock at her door.

"Milady?" Tor said.

Clarette did not reply.

"Are you all right? Your family is worried."

Clarette heard his heartbeat.

"Would you please unlock the door?"

Clarette again did not reply.

"I want to help you," Tor said.

"No one can help me," Clarette said. "If you want to help me, break down my door and run me through."

"Why would I do that?"

Clarette didn't reply.

* * *

Less than an hour later, her mother came to her door.

"Clarette?" she said.

No reply.

"Why have you locked yourself in here?"

Silence.

"What is the matter?"

Silence.

"If something is wrong, let us help you."

"You can't," she said.

"Why not?"

Silence.

Clarette assumed that her mother had left as she could no longer hear a heartbeat. A minute later, she heard another.

"Clarette?" It was Endon.

Silence.

"Are you all right in there?"

More silence.

"Mother's worried, and she sent Tor to go get father. If anything's wrong, you know you can talk to me, right?"

Silence.

"We may quarrel a bit, but we're still siblings."

Clarette sat up on the bed.

"I'll be back," Endon said as he left.

* * *

Clarette stayed in that room for three days straight without eating, drinking or sleeping. Despite the lack of food, she didn't become emaciated. Despite the lack of water, she didn't become dehydrated. Despite the lack of sleep, she didn't become tired. And despite her family's best efforts, she didn't open the door.

On the night of the third day, Clarette was overcome with pain. She lay in the bed, writhing and rolling as her body underwent the change. After an hour of constant, disabling pain, it suddenly stopped and she was overcome by thirst. Tor was watching Clarette's door, still trying to get her to open it. He was surprised when she did.

"Milady!" he said. His smile faded when he saw her in detail. Her skin was as pale as Skyrim snow, and her face was blank. Tor had seen this before. He was horrified as the realization hit him. Before he could do anything, Clarette pounced on him and bit into his neck. Despite how badly she wanted to stop, she couldn't. She bled the old Nord dry. She recoiled herself and looked at Tor in horror. She backed up to the wall, disgusted by herself. This was it, then? She was now amongst the undead and her life as she knew it was over. If she was caught, she'd be executed. She ran through the moonlit hallway, down the stairs and opened the door without so much as a "goodbye" to anyone, as she didn't want them to suffer the same fate as poor Tor.

Clarette was stopped by the manor's guards, who grabbed her as she tried to run. She bit into one of them, disabling him and pushed the other away. The scream let out by the one she bit alerted any guards who had the night shift near the manor. Clarette ran off of the manor's grounds and into the street. Guards from the wealthy houses down the road ran over. They noticed the blood around Clarette's mouth and readied their bows. She ran for the city gate, dodging arrows as she opened it. She ran out of the city grounds and just kept running.


	4. Chapter IV

4E 200, 17th of Last Seed - Road from Falkreath to Windhelm, Skyrim

Sinvir was annoyed by the carriage driver's constant chatter. The man had not only succeeded in putting Clarette asleep with his boring words, but was trying Sinvir's patience. He sat in silence as the man droned on about some boring subject or another. Every now and then he'd glance over at Clarette, who had fallen asleep not long after they left Falkreath. She appeared more human and less vampiric, due to the fact that she had fed. Sinvir considered her a leech, nothing more; a parasite in every sense of the word. She used humans as food and played with their minds, although he was confident that his mind was his own – for now. As soon as it suited her, she would take control of him like a pawn. He wanted to put her down as she slept. The carriage hit a rock and Clarette awoke.

"What was that?" she said.

"A rock," the driver replied. "Sorry about that. Now, what was I saying? Right, I was talking about werewolves."

Sinvir put his face in his hands.

"Now – Sinvir, was it? – I know you think I'm making it up. But I tell you, I heard howling, and it ain't wolves."

"Quiet," Sinvir said. "Just drive the carriage."

The driver nodded his head and focused on the road. Clarette stretched her arms. It had been a few months since she had made use of a carriage. She looked around. What she saw were trees and wilderness – nothing unusual for a carriage ride. It wasn't long before they came across their first encounter with Skyrim's wildlife. Not four minutes after Clarette had awoken, Sinvir spotted something in the expanse of forest. It lay there motionless, and had he not grown up in the southern reaches of Skyrim he might not have noticed it. It was a sabre cat. It blended in surprisingly well for its faded orange coat. Its green eyes shot back at Sinvir. He slowly reached down for his axe. Clarette took notice of Sinvir's movements and his face.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"Shh," Sinvir replied. "Sabre cat."

The driver heard Sinvir and promptly stopped the carriage.

"Keep going, idiot!" Sinvir said.

The driver started again. Clarette reached down for her sword. The sabre cat started to move towards the carriage. Sinvir kept his eyes locked on the sabre cat. Suddenly, it powerfully leaped over their heads and onto the carriage driver. It clawed at him and bit ferociously. It grabbed hold of the driver's arm and dragged him from the carriage and into the forest. Clarette was absolutely astounded. Sinvir grabbed her arm and pulled her off of the carriage.

"We need to keep going," he said.

He released the horses from their reins and allowed them to escape. He and Clarette ran down the road, Clarette looking back every now and then to see if the beast continued to follow. Sinvir suddenly stopped in his tracks. Clarette almost bumped into him. The sabre cat was standing on the road in front of them. It couldn't have been more than ten meters away. It stared directly at Sinvir. Clarette stood motionless. She had heard stories of the beasts of Skyrim but never seen them herself. She had seen liches, Daedric princes, wraiths and many more. She was, herself, something unnatural and worthy of fear. But there was something about the natural power that resided within the beast in front of her that scared her more than any unnatural being ever could.

Sinvir slowly raised his axe as the beast watched his every move. Suddenly, it pounced at Sinvir. He jumped out of the way and the sabre cat almost landed on Clarette. It recovered and jumped on top of Clarette, knocking her to the ground. It clawed at her arm as Sinvir sprinted to her and swung his axe. It collided with the sabre cat's head, and it went limp. Clarette held her wound as Sinvir pushed the cat off of her.

"Are you all right?" he said.

Clarette lifted her hand up. The cat had gashed her arm, and claw marks were oozing blood.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm bleeding a lot."

Sinvir grabbed her good arm and helped her up. He took a look at the wound.

"There will be a healer in Windhelm," he said.

"How far is that?" Clarette asked.

Sinvir took a look around.

"At least a day and a half's walk from here."

"Is anything closer?"

"Whiterun, but they are enemies of Ulfric."

"Does it matter?" Clarette questioned. "If I die from a damned wound, won't your lord be upset?"

"You are already dead," Sinvir said. "A wound will not kill you."

Clarette was unprepared for that response. Was that a vampire slur?

"Fine," she said. "Windhelm it is."

* * *

Silvius and his comrade walked the road out of Falkreath. The town had proved useless, except for a guard drained of blood that confirmed a vampire's presence. Silvius deduced that they would follow the main roads. Although this vampire was smart, she knew that the hunters were on her trail. She would be in a hurry, not thinking that staying off the roads would be a better idea.

What confused Silvius the most was why a Nord was willingly travelling with a vampire. What was he planning to do with her? Travelling with a vampire only ensured death either at its hands or Silvius'.

It was not long before the two hunters came across some sort of camp at the side of the road, consisting of a tent and a fire pit. It looked abandoned.

"Look around, Kastus," Silvius said to his comrade.

Silvius knelt down beside the fire pit.

"The embers are still warm," he said.

"That said, I doubt this was their camp."

Kastus looked puzzled.

"Why might that be?" he asked.

SIlvius got up and went over to the tent. He pulled open the flap and looked around for a moment. He picked up a book sitting beside the makeshift bed and opened it.

"A necromancer was here," he said.

"This book is all about necromancy, and the fire was lit magically. It has that smell."

"I see," Kastus said, "but could the vampire not be a necromancer?"

"I've studied this vampire extensively," Silvius said, "and she has no trace of magic in her blood. Her father was a nobleman, her brother was a smith, and her mother was a landowner."

Kastus looked at Silvius with amazement and said, "It stuns me how you know all of this. Where do you get your information? I doubt any books have been written about her."

"I have my sources," Silvius said, casting the necromantic tome into the firepit and lighting it ablaze. "Shall we continue, Kastus?"

Kastus took one look at the fire. Something was wrong, but he nevertheless wanted to spend as little time in this camp as possible. With that, he said, "Yes, lets," and went onward with Silvius.

* * *

Clarette was – by now – no stranger to the road. She had travelled for a decent amount of time since she had been turned, but Skyrim was something different. Beautiful as it was, it was harsh and surprising. The encounter with the sabre cat earlier had proven that to her. She followed Sinvir closely, keeping an eye on the gash on her arm as they walked the road.

"So, Sinvir," Clarette said, clearly bored with her predicament, "how long have you been a Stormcloak?"

Sinvir did not reply.

"I imagine you joined for the women, right?" Clarette playfully asked. "A big, strong Stormcloak soldier like yourself must be quite popular in the taverns."

Sinvir stopped in his tracks, turned around and shot Clarette a look.

"What?" she said. "I'm simply asking a question."

Sinvir continued onward.

"Oh, come on," Clarette said with a provocative smile. "You do like women, right? Or is it men you fancy…?"

Sinvir simply ignored her. Clarette yet persisted, saying "No, you like women. I can-"

Without warning, Sinvir turned around and grabbed her good arm.

"Hey!" she cried, surprised. He threw her into the brush by the side of the road, him following after. "What in Oblivion-"

"Shh!" Sinvir hushed. "Imperials."

Clarette gazed out of the brush and up the road.

"I see nothing," she said.

"Just wait, Vampire," Sinvir replied. "Can you not hear their hearts beat?"

Clarette focused for a moment. Sinvir was right. She felt the heartbeats of at least seven men. They weren't up the road, but across it in the forest. She focused her gaze until she caught a glimpse of brown leather amongst the dark green. Clarette turned over to Sinvir and said, "How did you see them coming? I barely noticed them myself."

Sinvir held up his finger with one hand and reached for his axe with the other. "Quiet yourself, nightspawn," he said, lowering his finger. "They will hear us, lest you keep speaking."

The Imperial soldiers kept moving toward the road from the forest, seemingly unaware of their presence. Seven well-armed Imperial soldiers slowly emerged from the lush green and onto the road. One of them was dressed in armour made from steel, with a steel plume protruding from the top of his helmet. _He must be the officer,_ thought Clarette. He stopped on the road, causing all in his troop to stop behind him. He turned to one of them – a rather stocky man with a moustache and a large pack – and said, "Set it up here."

The stocky soldier saluted in acknowledgement and set his pack on the ground. The soldiers remained in place as the stocky one pulled out a small camping kit and small wooden poles.

"It's an ambush," Sinvir said, eying the stocky man. "It can't be for us."

Clarette was puzzled. "For who, then?" she asked, turning her head to Sinvir. That was when she saw it; the white tube-like object on the ground near her arm. Clarette realised that it was no object – it had legs. It easily had dozens of them, and it was small. Not only that, but it was slowly inching its way toward Clarette's gashed arm. She looked back up at the soldiers. They seemed completey unaware of their presence. She looked back down at the insect. She lifted her arm and swatted it away, accidentally cracking a twig with a noticeable _snap!_

Sinvir looked over at Clarette. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in fear. Clarette pointed to the insect, explaining the sound with a few gestures of her hand. Sinvir put his hand over his face in disappointment. Clarette looked back up at the road. The soldiers were gone. Sinvir went to get up, but Clarette grabbed his hand and whispered, "I can't hear their heartbeats anymore. I think it's the sun." Sinvir slowly relaxed himself and lay back in place.

"Then we stay here," he said. "The Imperials will likely come ba-"

Suddenly, a boot came down upon Sinvir's head, pushing it to the dirt. A sword came down from a shadow and set itself on Clarette's neck. It was an Imperial blade.

"Ser," a soldier said, "we have him."


End file.
